IMPORTANT: The following journal is intended for the use and viewing of approved persons only and may contain information that is confidential, privileged or unsuitable for overly sensitive persons with low self-esteem, no sense of humour or irrational religious beliefs. Any dissemination, distribution or copying of this work is not authorised (either explicitly or implicitly) and constitutes an irritating social faux pas. Unless the word ‘absquatulation’ has been used in its correct context somewhere other than in this warning, it does not have any legal or grammatical use and may be ignored. No animals were harmed in the creation of this journal and a minimum of Microsoft software was used. Those of you with an overwhelming fear of the unknown will be gratified to learn that there is no hidden message revealed by reading this warning backwards.

• It rained. It has rained almost non-stop since I’ve been here. Gladly for me, I’ve not minded. I have had a few things I wished to do and a few I should do but don’t wish too, all of which require dry weather – but I am just enjoying the relaxation. There’s not much more relaxing than sitting around listening to the rain fall in a tropical paradise where it’s never too cold, and at night hearing the wind howling above the trees and the rain blowing through the leaves and dripping to the ground, snug and cosy in my bed. I don’t need to feel slack for my inaction because it’s too wet to do anything, and I don’t need to do anything because I’m on holidays. This is markedly different from my normality, where I need to do lots of things, but don’t do anything, and feel guilty as a result – so I’m really enjoying the break. I’ve also been staying up half the night every night, but that’s not so unusual. Not having to worry about cooking but still getting good meals is nice too. In general, I’m doing absolutely nothing and enjoying myself doing it. Ironically, I’m writing a page a day about the nothing that I’m not doing.

Evening

• Mum learnt how to use Outlook to send and receive email today, and how to attach a file to an email and send it. At least, I hope she learnt. Tomorrow is Word and Internet Explorer day, and from then on she can do things herself.

Night

• Mum and I watched “Amelie” tonight. As is becoming horribly normal, we couldn’t enjoy normal playback, it was slightly jerky (in a strangely smooth manner) throughout. But it is an excellent movie, French and subtitled. We laughed. It was great – so romantic, so lovely. This is the best movie we’ve seen since I’ve been up here, which isn’t saying much. I also ate an entire block of white coconut chocolate, so I’m hyper now. Bounce, bounce, bounce! But back to the movie – a thoroughly enjoyable, thoroughly happy, joyful look at one woman’s romantic dream coming true; and quite absurd in places. I love it. Subtitles are funny, I do not remember them. Even now, I don’t remember there being any subtitles, it seems that my brain replaces the dialogue with what I read. I often can’t remember whether I read something or saw it in a movie – my imagination does such a good job padding out what I read that I can clearly remember the visuals afterwards. I also spend a lot of time simply thinking, planning, designing, and daydreaming. When I had to lie in bed unable to move for weeks I was so scared that I’d get bored that I didn’t let myself get bored, the logic being that if I got bored once there would be no stopping it and I’d lie there bored to death and dying – but ever since then I’ve lost my fear of boredom. I can, often, be just as happy (if not happier) by myself doing nothing, simply thinking. When in India, I found myself quite enjoying the train rides. Even though they were very long and I was surrounded by so many other people, I, being the only westerner, would find myself, in a sense, alone, and there’s something about a train’s motion and noise that is very soothing. I had excellent sleeps and great daydreams, finding myself at peace and able to just sit in a door and enjoy the passing countryside, or stare blankly as the fields rolled by and think up complex designs and scenarios. I think, in retrospect, they were some of the most peaceful times I’ve had, and in retrospect there’s almost more commas in these last few sentences than letters.

Comment by lulu – Monday 21 July 2003, 5:55 AM

It's called the Faulkner Syndrome and is caused from suppressed poet inclinations. Don't worry; it isn't bad or contagious. Oh, and they give prizes for it.